Crazy Little Thing
by terrified-plant
Summary: See Crowley. See Crowley love Aziraphale. See 'Zira be inexperienced.


A/N: I thought I'd have a bit of fun and write an A/C fic. And for good measure, I've thrown in a few "surprise visitors" for our favorite angel and demon at the end. Just to see what Upstairs and Downstairs think of their relationship. o(-o) (o-)o

Disclaimer: Good Omens characters (Aziraphale and Crowley) belong to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Many Waters characters (Adnarel, Admael, and Rofocale) belong to Madeleine L'Engle. Any song titles and lyrics you recognize are Queen's (okay, Freddie Mercury's. but you know what I mean. :P). And any lines you may recognize were borrowed from said books. Is that a disclaimer or what!

Crazy Little Thing

On the first day of the rest of their lives, they spent the better part of it getting drunk at the Ritz. They were one of the most unusual pairs the restaurant had ever seen so far, though they've been there more than a dozen times over the past few years already. The reason for this was their appearance. Oh, both looked young. One had a mess of shiny golden hair, softly curling at the ends. He wore thick spectacles, and he was dressed all in white. Also, emanating from him was a faint brightness. It was very faint that you'd have to squint to notice it, but it was there. The other one looked vaguely familiar to the staff. Neat dark hair, black clothes, black sunglasses. But the first thing you noticed about him was his skin. White, very white ivory-looking skin, made even whiter by his black attire. He looked like he was made of marble. Both of them were inhumanly beautiful. An alien couple.

"When d'you s'pose we'll get new bodies again?" Crowley asked, sloshing more wine into his throat.

Aziraphale shrugged. "Dunno. Gonna be a lot of paperwork, though I'm not sure that's very fair. I mean, we shed our bodies for nothing! I didn't even get to use that sword."

"Oh, you wanted to?" Crowley grinned knowingly as the angel's cheeks flushed red.

"Oh, stop it, Crowley. Y'know what I mean."

Crowley roared with laughter, causing the people around them to swivel their heads in their direction. He stopped abruptly, and a look of mild discomfort crossed his face as he willed the alcohol to leave his system. His companion did the same.

"Er, shall I pay?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley waved his hand away and slapped a wad of bills down the table.

"Let's go."

The two of them made their way out of the restaurant and into the parking lot where the Bentley was waiting. Crowley looked questioningly at Aziraphale, who had slid into the passenger's seat beside him. "Where to now?"

Aziraphale gave him a look. "Home. Where else? I need to start on those papers now, and so do you. You know that. We can't stay looking like this forever."

"They're our original bodies." Crowley pointed out, a clear indication that starting paperwork was last on his list of things to do.

"Maybe, but we're on _earth._ The last thing we want is for the humans to be distracted by how we look."

Crowley's lips curled into a smile as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Come to think of it, tempting would be easier this way…"

Aziraphale gave him a disapproving look before noticing that they were already moving. "Hey! I live that way! You're going in the wrong direction!" He cried.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Oh, live a little, angel. It's not everyday I get to see you like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, forget it." How could he say that Aziraphale's face made him remember his days Up There? The angel would nag him no end about his accidental Falling.

"Forget? You- you-…. You're driving too fast, my dear. You're going to hit something again."

"I told you, they're the ones who keep hitting me." Crowley said through gritted teeth.

Minutes later, they entered Crowley's flat, the demon, looking pleased, Aziraphale, looking shaken. Everything was as white as ever. Aziraphale fitted very well with the surroundings. In some part of the place, probably the living room, a stereo was blaring. Queen, no less. Crowley groaned.

"I don't know what I did to deserve this." He said half-heartedly, as he remembered Hastur and Ligur. Someone Down There must think it's funny to let someone's stereo continue playing with end-of-world music, even if the supposed 'war' was over. Well, good thing they didn't do it with the Bentley too. He was getting kind of tired, listening to We Are the Champions, which was the most often played track.

Here in his flat, however, Somebody to Love was playing. Which made Crowley wonder for a while. At least until Aziraphale interrupted his thoughts by asking what the heck they were going to do there.

"Really, Aziraphale, you talk too much." Crowley interrupted, rounding on the angel. Aziraphale stopped midsentence, looking surprised, and a bit taken aback. Crowley marveled at his angelic face once again, then snapped himself out. "If you don't want to hang out with me, just say so in plain English." He added more gently this time.

"Oh, but it's not-" Aziraphale started, but then faltered at the look on Crowley's face. "I just thought it'd be nice, not having to worry about papers, bodies, all that. I mean, you know…" He said with a sigh.

"You also worry too much." Crowley observed.

"I can't help it. I was made this way." Aziraphale said, wrinkling his perfect nose. "Also, these clothes you made me wear are ridiculously stuffy." He tugged at the suit.

Crowley let out a laugh, removed his sunglasses, flicked his eyes up and down Aziraphale. "It looks good on you."

Aziraphale flushed pink. "It's uncomfortable." He pointed out nonetheless.

They hadn't noticed at first, but the song had changed.

"_Ooh, let me feel you heartbeat (grow faster, faster)_

_Can you feel my love heat?_

_Come on and sit on my hot seat of love_

_Tell me how do you feel right after all_

_I'd like for you and I to go romancing_

_Just say the word, your wish is my command"_

Before Aziraphale knew it, he had been pushed down on the couch, with a very lovestruck demon kissing him gently. Which he hadn't even considered possible before. Like a demon like Crowley could ever be lovestruck. But then again, Aziraphale wasn't just any human. He was an angel.

"Crowley-" Aziraphale started, his lips brushing against the demon's. Crowley pulled his head back slowly, then studied Aziraphale's face. His eyes took in everything. The soft curls spilled on his forehead, the heavy eyelids, the long lashes, the pale, smoky eyes, the perfect nose, the curved lips, the flushed cheeks, the worried expression. Crowley wanted everything.

For his part, Aziraphale was studying Crowley's face too. He basically saw the same sight, except for a few differences here and there. Jet black hair flopping into his brilliant topaz eyes, skin chalky white.

"Oh, for the love of- would you take those ridiculous glasses off now?" Crowley said, waving a hand carelessly. Aziraphale didn't move, so Crowley pulled it off himself and threw it on the floor.

"Hey-!" Aziraphale started to protest, but was stopped once again by Crowley's lips. The song had skipped from Good Old Fashioned Loverboy to Crazy Little Thing Called Love. It was then that Crowley realized that the stereo had been reflecting his thoughts. But he was far too busy tasting Aziraphale to care.

[If the stereo responded to Aziraphale's thoughts, it probably would have been playing Save Me.

Aziraphale was the one who pulled away this time, looking flustered. "Really, my dear, this isn't proper at all."

"Yeah? Why? Because I'm a demon?" Crowley stopped long enough to ask.

"_No. _ Because _I'm_ an angel."

Crowley let out a soft laugh. "Then consider this as a human experience, for your part. After all, what better way to understand what humans are feeling than to experience what they do firsthand?"

"Um, I- I suppose…" Aziraphale started nervously. Crowley didn't need to hear any more. He pushed the angel farther down the couch, taking complete control. Aziraphale, completely at a loss of what to do, let him. He just lay there, feeling sensations he had never felt before, while Crowley trailed kisses all over his face, nibbling at his ears, and without the angel noticing, unbuttoning his shirt. A sharp gasp of pain escaped his mouth as he felt the demon's teeth against his neck.

"Crowley, _don't bite me!"_ the angel protested. Crowley raised his head and looked at Aziraphale's face.

"Aziraphale," He said with a chuckle. "Aziraphale, I could eat you whole."

"_Stop it!"_

Crowley laughed again. Alright, I was just kidding." He slipped the white blazer off Aziraphale's shoulders and flung it to the other side of the couch. The song skipped again.

"Now what?"

"You said you were uncomfortable, didn't you?" The blazer was soon followed by Aziraphale's shirt, and then after, every other bit of clothing the angel was wearing.

The stereo blared louder than ever.

"_I'm burning through the sky yeah. Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit_

_I'm trav'ling at the speed of light._

_I wanna make a super sonic man out of youuuu-u-u-u-u-u!!!"_

Crowley, while kissing Aziraphale, was also busy with other parts of the angel's anatomy. He stopped abruptly yet again, when he felt Aziraphale give a violent shiver. They looked at each other, Aziraphale's face etched with fear, Crowley's with… well, with lust. Then, without warning, Aziraphale's wings burst from his back, enveloping them in a cloud of feathers. Crowley let go of him, and slowly stood up, his eyes sweeping over Aziraphale, stark naked, wings askew, with an amazing pleading expression on his face. He'd never seen Aziraphale look so vulnerable. He'd never felt like a champion as much as he felt then. And they haven't even really started yet.

"Aziraphale, if you so much as interrupt me again…" He covered Aziraphale's' face with kisses. "Tonight, you are mine, angel. Mine, mine, mine..."

Quite some time later found them lying on Crowley's bed in an exhausted heap of tangled limbs and wings. Both had quite forgotten how on earth they landed in the room, and the details as to when Crowley's clothes were pulled off were a bit fuzzy. Come to think of it, neither noticed the demon's dark wings' appearance at all. It just sort of, joined in.

Crowley turned to Aziraphale. "Well?"

Aziraphale flushed for what seemed like the hundredth time. "That was very, um…" If he had been honest with himself, he would have said it was very explosive, which was really the only word he could come up with to describe what Crowley made him feel. But despite everything they had done that night, he still couldn't bring his angelic lips to utter the word.

"Oh for- just tell me if you liked it." Crowley snapped impatiently, running his long white fingers over Aziraphale's damp curls. The angel hesitated, and Crowley slid his hand down and twined his fingers around parts of Aziraphale's delicate chest. Then gave a hard pinch. Aziraphale's traitorous mouth parted and out escaped a small cry of pleasure, a sound that Crowley was sure he was never going to get tired of.

[Traitorous to Aziraphale at the moment. Not in the general sense.

Aziraphale leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Crowley's lips. "It was amazing." He got up and pulled the white sheets from under Crowley, and wrapped it around himself.

"Where're you going?" Crowley asked, sitting up.

"To get my clothes, of course, my dear." Aziraphale started out of the room. Crowley followed, not bothering to cover himself up. The place was quiet now.

"Hey, did you notice the stereo stop-" Crowley started, colliding into Aziraphale, who had stopped in his tracks, and falling down on the floor, taking the angel with him. "Hey! What the-" He turned to look at the direction that his open-mouthed companion was staring at, and his own jaw dropped.

Three beings were waiting on the couch. One had long golden hair tied back and falling over his golden wings, and twinkling bright blue eyes. Another had light hair, and a deep blue gaze. His pale blue wings drooped over the back of the couch. The last had flaming orange hair, piercing orange eyes, vivid red wings, and alabaster-white skin. Aziraphale and Crowley stared in shock at the visitors. Two radiating with brilliant light, and one looking more like a vampire than anything. All of them, beautiful beyond belief.

"Adnarel! Admael!" Aziraphale burst out, scrabbling to his feet and taking a deep bow. The two glowing seraphim rose and bowed in return.

"Aziraphale." They both said.

Crowley watched this for a moment, before acknowledging the third visitor. "Rofocale. What brings you here? Hastur off duty?" He asked coolly.

The red-winged nephil gave a dark laugh. "Oh, you know. We need to go to a little gathering, is all."

The demon licked his lips nervously. "Gathering? Where? What do you mean?"

"Down There, of course. Little re-evaluation. Great War… all that jazz." Rofocale replied with a glint in his eye. He glanced at Aziraphale, wrapped up in white sheets, and tried not to laugh out loud. "You nasty demon." He added with a knowing wink at Crowley.

Aziraphale, meanwhile, was having the same conversation with the seraphim, twisting uncomfortably under the sheets.

"Aziraphale, what on earth-?" Admael, the blue-winged one started, gesturing at the state of the principality.

"I- I can explain…" Aziraphale gushed in a flustered and pleading voice, looking wretched. His eyes met Crowley's, who gave him a questioning look. He gave up. "Oh, alright, I can't explain." He said with a sigh, then dropped down on the floor again. "Please tell me I'm not going to be a nephil. I don't want to Fall."

"I don't want him to Fall, either." Crowley said in a loud voice, earning him a surprised glare from Rofocale.

Adnarel, a vision of pure gold, stepped forward and knelt in front of Aziraphale. "Now, now. No one's going to Fall, okay?"

"You're serious?" Aziraphale asked in a disbelieving voice. He looked up hopefully at the seraph.

"Aziraphale, my dear. Would I lie to you?"

That seemed to calm him down. "But I don't understand…"

Admael gestured at Crowley. "Rules state that one Falls when one renounces heaven and all that heaven stands for. Nephilim, for the most part, mingle with the humans. Tempt them. Sleep with them. Have them bear their babies. Now Crowley, Fallen, he might be. He's still our brother. Not a human, but our brother."

"Admael, I never meant to Fall." Crowley said, in an attempt to be helpful.

"Nonsense!" Rofocale crowed. Crowley shot him an icy look.

"Oh, shut up, _nephil_. I'll be with you in a mo." He snapped.

Adnarel looked up thoughtfully. "While that may be true, you still caused a considerable amount of trouble, as I recall."

Crowley's eyes almost bugged out. "Oh come on! I was bored!"

"And you thought the rebels had the solution to that?"

"Well…." Crowley thought for a moment. He certainly had his excitement when they Fell. Down There, there was too much excitement. Now here on earth, was exactly the place he'd been looking for, though he wouldn't have wanted to be a human. He shrugged and let it go. "Just so you know, 'Zira. I never slept with any mortal female. I'm not a nephil."

"What you're telling me you're gay, now?" Rofocale interrupted with a hearty guffaw. That was before Crowley tackled him down the couch in a rush of wings. "Oh, for- would you put on some clothes?!"

"Angels were meant to love. Do you love Crowley?" Adnarel asked Aziraphale, who had a dazed expression on his face. He nodded. "Meant to be loved, too," Adnarel turned and called to Crowley, as if he were about to marry the two. "Do you love Aziraphale?"

Crowley stopped trying to wrestle Rofocale. "Of course I do!" He said bluntly.

"Then you're safe." Adnarel said, stroking Aziraphale's hair. He placed a gentle kiss on the angel's forehead, then helped him up.

"As for your attire, we'd better fix that up before going." Admael said, stepping forward too.

"What?" Aziraphale, still a bit dazed, said. He fingered the sheets.

"Hmm.. we could drape it over into a toga." Adnarel lifted parts of the cloth.

"No! Let him change back to his clothes." Admael interjected, holding Aziraphale's white suit forward.

"What for? A toga fits in better than a suit Up There." Adnarel said, gesturing at his and Admael's white cloaks, as if stating the obvious.

[ Which I guess it sort of is.

The shadow of a grimace crossed Admael's perfect face for the shortest time. "Well, it smells funny, for one thing."

Adnarel's bright laugh filled the room.


End file.
